Chapter 810 The Motherland Is Calling

According to the unanimous opinion of Western military experts, if a unit suffers more than half of its casualties, it can be judged to have lost the ability to continue fighting. If it suffers more than 60% casualties and can still fight, it is a very powerful elite unit.

It is rare for a unit to continue fighting and not surrender when it suffers more than 70% casualties. Of course, there are also units that can fight the enemy until they are completely annihilated. The story of the Spartan King Leonidas I leading 300 warriors to fight against the Persian Empire's so-called million-strong army and being completely annihilated at Thermopylae is widely circulated throughout Europe.

However, after the advent of the era of hot weapons, from the beginning of the First World War to the Second World War, there are troops that can fight to the death and not surrender to the enemy, at least in the broad sense of European capitalist countries, including the United States across the ocean.

The casualties of the First Guards Heavy Tank Breakthrough Regiment have long exceeded the figures of half and 60%, and have been infinitely close to being completely annihilated and standing on the edge of the abyss.

In the hellish Stalingrad, there is no place for cowards to hide and survive. This is as clear as an ironclad truth.

Malashenko did not want to give the order to continue fighting. If he continued to fight, the First Guards Heavy Tank Breakthrough Regiment might really lose all its numbers! No soldier who originally belonged to the First Guards Heavy Tank Breakthrough Regiment could leave the city alive. Even if it was re-established under the name of the First Guards Heavy Tank Breakthrough Regiment, it was just a new unit that inherited the name of a hero and had no meaning.

But the more cruel fact is that even escaping is meaningless. In this crazy and war-filled city, it's either you or me! If you don't try your best to kill the people wearing enemy uniforms, the body lying on the ground will undoubtedly be yourself.

Looking around without saying a word, Malashenko saw all the vicissitudes of life with war fatigue and numb faces everywhere he could see. Only the pairs of eyes embedded in the dark war-torn faces still flashed the light of life and faith.

The real hesitation lasted less than ten seconds. Malashenko took a deep breath and no longer cared whether he could leave the city alive.

When the war reached this point, everything was beyond his control and too far away. It was so far away that Malashenko could not do anything more with his identity as a time traveler. This was also a great sorrow for a time traveler who had no external cheats and could only rely on himself.

"Let's keep fighting, comrades. If there's no food, we'll steal it from the Germans! If there's no water, we'll bite through the Germans' blood vessels and drink the last sip, and then drag them into the abyss of cleansing their sins! We don't need medicine, and the field hospital is not our destination. Even if we die, we'll die among the Germans' corpses, not on the hospital beds and then be carried and buried in the pit!"

"As your regiment leader, I'm very happy to be with you all today. This is my duty and the greatest honor of my life!"

"Future generations will remember our names, and children will sing and read our stories in class! Our sacrifice today is only for our descendants and future children not to be covered with scars like us, and all people can live under the same peaceful sky and live their own beautiful lives. Life!"

"Sacrifice is meaningful, I will fight with you until the last moment! The one who survived to the end is the last commander of the 1st Guards Heavy Tank Breakthrough Regiment! Even if there are no tanks, we must let those Germans know that there are only Red Army heroes who stand firm in front of the steel tracks, and there are no weak cowards who kneel down to survive!"

"The future belongs to us and all the brave warriors fighting under the red flag!"

"The motherland is calling, comrades! Let Stalingrad become the grave of the fascist Sixth Army, Ura!"

Political Commissar Petrov once said that at some point he even had the illusion that Malashenko was more suitable to be a political commissar than him, especially in terms of morale mobilization and pre-war propaganda. Malashenko's comprehensive level is comparable to that of a generation of literary masters who have studied in the Party School for three years, which is jaw-dropping.

Political Commissar Petrov was right. Even though he had only said these words to Malashenko in a half-joking tone, there was no doubt that all the appropriate descriptions were indeed fully demonstrated on Malashenko.

When all eyes were focused on the weapon raised high in Malashenko's hand, the dark road ahead of the 1st Guards Heavy Tank Breakthrough Regiment, which had been covered with blood and thorns, was once again illuminated with a direction to guide everyone forward.

That was the common fate of all the officers and soldiers of the 1st Guards Heavy Tank Breakthrough Regiment, including Political Commissar Petrov, Lavrinenko, Captain Karamov, and of course Malashenko himself and his No. 177 crew, which had become infantry.

The intensive bombing of the German Air Force continued, shrouding the entire city in explosions, smoke, and the violent trembling of death, as if falling into hell.

After carrying out a wave of bombing, the German bombers returned to the front-line airport as quickly as possible. The German Air Force ground crew waiting at the airport pushed carts carrying ammunition and rushed forward. The refueling truck drove to the side of the aircraft as quickly as possible, plugged the refueling hose and refueled.

It was the second and third time, and they even forgot how many times they had returned. The German pilots jumped off the plane tremblingly, eating the supplementary food handed over by the ground crew next to their own vehicles, and drinking a few sips of the minimum amount of drinking water that would not kill them with thirst, temporarily quenching the fire in their throats.

When the refueling hose was pulled out of the aircraft refueling port, the rack locked the bomb, and the crisp sound of the fixed firmly echoed in their ears, that was when these already quite tired German pilots took off again.

Standing not too far from the airport runway and watching these already quite tired guys return to the blue sky, the man who was responsible for the duties of the Chief of Staff of the Fourth Air Force of the German Air Force could not help but slowly shook his head and sighed softly.

"This is crazy! Our best guys are being used like livestock just to cooperate with the crazy fantasy of that madman! I can't understand why the Führer would appoint such a crazy guy as the commander of the Sixth Army!"